Journey Through Tears
by Kaiyasin
Summary: A tale of adventure, romance, tragedy, and absolution. Disclaimer: I originally submitted the first chapter several years ago under a different account. Unfortunately, the login details of that account have been lost to time and a faulty memory, so I am instead revisiting this story under a different username so that I may hopefully continue the tale.


**Chapter 1: In Which They Begin Their Journey**

Alright, getting it out now that Selkies, Yukes, Lilties, Clavats, (almost) all town and dungeon names, any other NPC's I throw in and basically the entire world in this story is © Square Enix and Nintendo.

Also, it is quite possible that there will be game spoilers in here. If you are trying to play Final Fantasy: Crystal Chronicles and don't want to ruin the ending or anything, don't read. Not that there's a whole lot that hasn't come out by now, but just so you know. Happy reading.

_I had always wanted to join a caravan. To go on journeys. Explore the world. To return every year a triumphant hero, instead of a shunned outcast. The stories made it sound so glamorous, so fun. I had always thought, "Once I leave on my chronicle, maybe I'll be able to find my way in this world."_

"Kisa."

_Y'know, my parents are on their own chronicle. Debussy said so. So, maybe once I'm able to leave, I'll be able to find them. Somewhere. Maybe they'll even recognize me. That'd be so nice… Then they wouldn't be able to laugh at me anymore. I wouldn't have to listen to them, put up with them. I wouldn't be "The Orphan" or "The Runt" anymore._

"Kisa!"

_Yeah… That'd be nice…_ Was the last thing I remember thinking before I felt myself smacked in the back of the head, nearly being propelled off the cliff into the river below.

"Kisa. How many times have I told you? You are not to wander off at this time of day. These hours are reserved for your lessons, and if you do not come back right now and start studying, you'll be confined to your books for the next week!"

"Aww, Debussy sir!"

"No! I have already told you three times today, now march!"

"Fine." Sulking, I stood up and turned to face my mentor, one of the oldest beings in the village. My mentor and guardian, Debussy was a Yuke of great stature, towering over me where I stood. His beaten bronze helmet completely obscured any of his features, and his official black mage's coat was a more brilliant blue than the sky on fishing days. The long feathered wings that served for arms were crossed across his chest, and I could almost feel the glower aimed at me through his mask.

"Why were you out here?" He asked, his voice heavy enough to weigh down a moogle.

"Um... because... studying is boring?" I asked, trying for the innocent smile. He didn't buy it.

"Oh, it's boring, is it. Then why don't we try to make this more interesting?" He asked before turning away and starting down the hill. I really had no choice but to follow him. Head hanging, I went back down towards the village square, where all the others would be waiting to laugh at me.

But we didn't travel to the square. Instead we went by one of the other routes, skipping past the Crystal Pedestal and going over the bridge that led to the fields outside of the town.

Once there, I stopped just behind Debussy, who had stopped just inside of the Crystal's radius of influence and was examining the surrounding area. Peering out from behind him, I couldn't tell that anything had changed. The road, though narrow, was still paved and maintained, slightly sunken between gentle hills dotted with trees. The stream ran behind us, adding a typically bubbly gurgle to the scene as fluffy clouds floated across the sky. Before I could say something like 'I see nothing new,' my mentor preempted me.

"Of course you see nothing different. But if you are going to explore someday, you must learn to be more observant. For instance." He said, pointing at the sky. "What do you see?"

I looked up again, reexamining the blue expanse above. Finally I saw it. Or rather, didn't see it. "The Arioles aren't flying today. And the cloud cover is denser than on the days when the Mus are commonly seen burrowing. While they can operate under some cover, they prefer bright sunlight."

"Good. Now, look around." He said, nodding slightly, some of the imperiousness leaking out of his voice. "Anything else?"

"The Miasma is slightly denser than usual, in most cases pointing to a greater monster concentration." I responded promptly, now standing beside him with my arms linked behind my back. "This would indicate either an upset in the atmospheric currents or to the annual shift in the Miasma Streams."

"Very good. Here." He said, unexpectedly tossing me an Orb of Fire and an Orb of Blizzard. "Let's test your fusing. Fira." He said, powering up a Fire circle nearby. After nearly fumbling the Magicite, I managed to equip them to my arsenal and powered up my own Fire circle, joining it with his. After it flashed a bright white, signaling that the fusion was complete, we both released on cue, sending up a plume of fire that was taller than he was. He stood there watching the brief plume of smoke from the spell, then nodded again and said "Gravity" and charged up a Fire circle.

Getting used to the routine, I charged up a Blizzard spell and fused it with his, letting loose a huge Gravity orb and quickly settling the dust from the Fira spell. "Excellent. Now, back to your books. I'd say you've passed your practical studies for today."

"Aww, but sir..."

"No buts, Kisa. Books. Now." He pointed a resolute finger back towards the house.

"Fine." Hanging my head and dragging my feet as a final form of protest, I took myself back to the house to start on the latest in a book-a-week list he had given me at the beginning of the month. He had been doing this for the last three years, and I had still only made a small dent in his enormous library. Checking the parchment list tacked up just inside the library door, I weaved my way around the piles of books to the history shelves, picking out the book on the history of Alfitaria. Despite my protests, I was quickly immersed in the tome, picking up where I had left off the day before. I quickly lost myself in the world of long ago, of Lilties and the Selkie-kin war and of the Iron Battles of the Mine of Cathuriges. I only returned to the present time when Debussy placed a warm bowl of stew and half a loaf of bread on the table next to me.

"You've been working hard." He said approvingly, nodding.

"Um, I suppose..." I replied, glancing up. Looking down at the book I held, I almost dropped it when I realized I had gotten almost to the back cover in the time that I had used. "Wow. I didn't even know I was hungry." I said, ripping a piece of bread off the loaf with my teeth and going back to reading. "I'll just finish this up."

Although you couldn't see it, I could swear that Debussy was smiling. Turning to leave the library, his smaller back wings fluttered slightly with amusement. Smiling myself, I turned the page and continued the stories of the ancient Liltian monarchy. I had just closed the covers when a young voice ran by outside, shouting

"The caravan! The caravan has returned!"

Completely forgetting the book I bounded out of the chair, pausing only long enough to prevent pages 196-217 from being ripped out upon contact with the floor. Setting the book on my recently evacuated chair, I ran to the window to try and see what was happening. Unfortunately for me, it was dark enough that all I could make out was the torches around the square and their reflections in the Theline Crystal. Whipping around, I sped down the hallway and was out the front door, tossing off a hurried half-apology to Debussy just before the door slammed behind me.

Taking the front steps three at a time, I vaulted over the railing part of the way down and landed in a slight puff of dust, picking myself up and loping over towards the entrance to the town. Once there, however, it was easy to tell something wasn't right. There were no happy children, no songs, nothing. You could hardly even make out the glow of the Chalice. Worried now, I cautiously stepped around one of the usually cheering kids, snagging his torch along the way. Holding it up, the faint creaking that was the wagon finally gained shape. And it was not a pleasant one.

Three gaunt forms were discernible through the darkness, clothed in what could only be called torn rags and dragging their weapons. The fourth that usually traveled with them was nowhere to be seen. The wagon was in an unusual state of disrepair, seeing as they had to have passed through Marr's Pass on the way home, and the only member that didn't look immediately dejected was the paopaotamus. Upon closer inspection however, it became clear that his mane wasn't combed, and he hadn't had a good brush down for a while.

The entirety of the village was silent as they approached, the welcoming committee drawing back in utter speechlessness to let them through into the square. They came through, heads hanging in a very good imitation of defeat as the space behind them closed up and we all followed. The creaking of the wagon came to an eventual stop as they formed a very loose arc around the Theline Crystal, and Roland came out to stand before them. There was silence for a few seconds, then

"I suppose it is time for a story."

The leader of the caravan, a Clavat by the name of Drein, nodded, still silent.

Everyone waited with baited breath, wondering what the Caravan would say. Drein looked around at the gathering, a sad look on his face. That is, until he came to me. When Drein saw me standing with the younger children, something happened. I could swear that his eyes suddenly blazed with hatred, but he looked away before I could be sure. Suddenly, I didn't want to be there, but before I could turn to go, he spoke. One word.

"Selkies."

There was a collective gasp and I could feel the eyes of the entire village suddenly swing to rest on me. Me and my silver hair, my tilted eyes that shone the color of seaglass, everything that marked me as someone different. I stared at the ground and wished fervently for the power to sink through it, but no luck. I stayed rooted to the spot as Drein continued, every word stabbing through me like daggers.

It was a brutal tale at best, gruesome at its worst. The Caravan had been traveling back home after a lean Myrrh harvest. The monsters had been plentiful this year, and the competition for droplets seemed fiercer, but they had collected their bounty and were encamped a little ways out from Alfitaria when they were ambushed in the night. A Selkie Caravan, unable to acquire all the myrrh they needed had attacked when they were asleep. The battle had been fierce, desperation fueling the actions of everyone involved. The caravan had been brutally subdued, and Lens had suffered the severest of injuries protecting Alia. Once the Selkies had siphoned off what myrrh they needed, they left. Lens was buried a little ways away from Tida.

The entire time he spoke I stared at my feet, feeling eyes flickering towards me like candles. I wanted to shout _I had nothing to do with it!_ but my voice seemed to be stuck in my throat.

Finally he finished and the square was silent again, broken only by the crackling of the torches. Finally, Roland sighed and spoke, saying "I guess we shall have to make do for this year." Taking the less than half full chalice from Drein, he turned and raised it to the Crystal, reciting the chant and performing the ceremony that would bless the Crystal with the Myrrh's light. Once he had finished the Chalice was empty once more and the Crystal shone brighter, though not as bright as in previous years. There was no celebration. As everyone turned to go, the only eyes that I could feel looking at me without hate or fear were Roland's. Roland, instead, watched me back to the house with nothing but pity.

The next few days were hard. I could hear people whispering about me behind my back as I filled water buckets from the stream. Mothers pulled their children into their homes as I passed, and fathers spat in my path. I even heard that one of the Liltian families had called in a priest from the city to bless the fields where I used to play. The anti-Selkie mood - while never the best in Theline Town - had increased to the point where something would have to snap soon. Eating with Debussy three nights after the return of the Caravan, I finally had to say something.

"Sir?"

"Yes?" He asked, calmly sipping his soup. Though how he still masked his features while performing this feat remained a mystery to me.

"Why-"

"You must learn to tolerate." He said, cutting me off.

"But-"

"A mass cannot change because of the will of a part." He said, still looking at his soup. "You must learn to bear this burden."

Sulking, I stared back down at my bowl. _I have been bearing this burden all my life._ I thought, swirling my cooling meal with my spoon. _The villagers are just adding to the load._

"Eat your soup." He said, still not looking up. He took another sip of his.

_Soup, soup, soup, always about the soup..._ I thought, swirling mine faster and faster. _The soup will not help tonight. Unless it can turn back time..._ My spoon clinked against the bowl as the liquid swirled.

"Don't play with your soup, Kisa." He said, sipping his soup.

I only swirled my spoon faster, staring transfixed as a small whirlpool formed in the center. Suddenly there was a small crackling sound, and my entire bowl of soup literally froze, the spoon still inside. Shocked, I stared at it for a silent half minute before looking up at Debussy. Still sipping his soup. I watched him for another minute, then I finally said,

"Why."

Debussy sighed, finally putting down his spoon. "People wish for stability. They wish for comfort. When something intrudes that destroys this they merely shunt the blame onto that which is easiest for them." As he spoke I felt something nudge my foot. Looking down, I saw a Fire Magicite, glowing gently under the table. Whispering a thanks, I unfroze my bowl and began to eat.

"Even if it's not fair?" I asked, after a few moments of silence.

Debussy nodded. "Even then. They only wish to slide back into comfort. They could do it in a way that's fair, but takes much longer. Or, they could ignore fairness and get to comfort that much quicker. That is why people do the things they do."

I nodded, suddenly feeling like I didn't want any more soup. Pushing my bowl away and dropping my spoon in with a clatter, I stood up and walked to the door.

"Do not go far." Debussy said behind me, still calmly sipping his soup. It was almost gone.

Making a noncommittal noise in the back of my throat, I opened the door and stepped outside.

The Crystal glowed faintly in the square, not as bright as it had been before. It was failing, and if we didn't do anything Theline would end up like Tida. The myrrh the caravan brought had revived its light some, but without more it would fail soon. Walking slowly down the steps, I went to sit in front of the Crystal, staring at it as if I could divine an answer from its depths.

"She is still beautiful, no?"

Starting, I whirled around. Roland had come up behind without me hearing. He stepped up next to me, his hands linked behind his back as he stared at the Crystal. "Still beautiful, but not for long."

"Yes." I reached out towards the Crystal, my fingertips falling short by a meter, but still I felt a small measure of comfort from it. "I'm sorry." I said, as if that would fix everything.

"You have nothing to be sorry about." Roland kneeled down, then sat next to me in the packed dirt of the square. Carefully setting his staff at his side, he looked up at the Crystal with me. "We cannot change the past. All we can do is hope for the future."

"But what hope do we have?" I asked, frustrated. Curling my hand into a fist, I let it drop to my side. "There are no more caravans for us. Soon the Crystal will fade and go dark, and Theline will pass the way of Tida. All we can do is evacuate to Marr's Pass before the light in our Chalice fades, and even then we can't fit the entire town into its protective circle. Then there's monsters to think of..."

"There is another way." Roland said calmly, a serene smile upon his face as he watched the Crystal.

"And- what? Another way?" I looked to him, my mind a blur with the past few days' events. "What do you mean?"

"We could send out another caravan."

"Anoth... but, the caravanners..."

"No. You're right. We would have to find new caravanners. I think it was about time to retire Drein and his crew anyway."

"But where would we find new caravanners? All of the others in the village are either too young or too old." I blushed, suddenly remembering my place. "No offense, sir."

"None taken. And you would be wrong." He said, still smiling. After leaving me to puzzle it out a little more, he nodded when I looked up to him, my eyes wide and mouth slightly agape.

"But, but... But... What about master Debussy?" I asked, reduced to speaking the first thing on my mind.

"I believe that master Debussy would be a fine caravanning companion. He may be old, but he still has his wits, and he's tougher than he looks." Roland said, looking back to the Crystal. "Yes, a fine caravanner."

"But, my studies..."

"Can be continued on the journey. You can learn more traveling than you ever will from a library, and besides. You're at the perfect age to travel. Young enough to enjoy it, old enough to understand it. Yes," Here he stood up with the aid of his staff, brushing the dirt of the back of his robe. "The perfect caravan. I will make the arrangements with master Debussy tomorrow. I bid you goodnight." Bowing slightly, he turned and walked off into the darkness of the night, leaving me to sit there and stare after him, wondering what exactly had just happened.


End file.
